


the danger of heights

by military_bluebells



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chairs, Gen, Height Differences, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Pre-Relationship, Ray's not that short, Stupidity, but Brad's fucking tall, main character right there, there's not a lot to put in the tags tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23575561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: Calm mornings are made to be broken.
Relationships: Brad Colbert & Ray Person
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	the danger of heights

Brad pulled up in front of the apartment, letting his bike cruise to a stop. His hair was still damp as he pulled off his helmet, crusted from the sea water. The surf had been good today, he’d managed to get quite a few decent runs in before tourists had started to show up. Mike had joined him for an hour before he needed to leave for work. 

Ray’s car was still parked outside the complex, so he hadn’t left for a morning class. Brad hadn’t tried to keep up with Ray’s schedule this year, since last year it hadn’t helped him know where the fuck Ray was. Poke’s car was gone but that didn’t mean that the others were gone as well. 

He had to slam his shoulder into the front door to get it open, the thing jamming again. 

“Ray, why haven’t you fixed this fucking door!” 

“Just because I’m taking engineering as a major doesn’t mean I can fix a door. I take goddamn electric engineering at that; you dumb liberal fuck!” 

Brad snorted, untying his boots by the door. Poke always had a hissy fit when people tracked mud or sand through the apartment. 

“I apologise, I overestimated the intelligence of a sister-fucking, piece of trailer trash like you.” 

He walked into the kitchen, heading for the fridge but stopped in his tracks as his brain registered the sight in front of him. There was a structure that looked like three chairs piled on top of each other in some sort of pattern, which Ray was somehow balanced on top of, in basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt. 

“Ray, what the fuck are you doing?” Brad asked calmly. 

Ray looked down and scowled at Brad, “Well Bradley, some eight-foot Viking giant put the new tub of coffee in the goddamn ceiling, and since I’m of normal height, I’ve had to construct this aiding device,” Ray waved down at the chairs, “ to assist me.” 

Brad rolled his eyes, holding back a longsuffering sigh, and continued on his way to the fridge, which Ray had thankfully not blocked with his death contraption. 

“Why didn’t you just ask Rudy to reach it down?” Brad asked, _because that’s too logical_ , Brad’s brain helpfully chimed. 

“Because Brad, I’m an independent woman and as Beyoncé once said, I depend on me,” 

“Just don’t fall, I’m not taking your ass to a hospital.” 

Ray huffed, “Like I would fall homes, I have the balance of one of those gay-ass, leotard wearing gymnasts that win those huge fucking trophies.” 

Brad rolled his eyes, opening the fridge to grab the orange juice. There was a creak and Brad whipped his head to the side, internally sighing with relief as Ray stayed on the chairs, reaching up on his tip toes to reach the top of the cupboard. 

“You know instead of watching me struggle Iceman, you could help.” Ray grunted, trying to stretch further. Brad smirked, watching the edge of Ray’s t-shirt lift up to show a stripe of skin and one sharp hipbone. 

“I thought you were an independent woman.” Brad said dryly. 

Ray huffed but cheered as his skinny fingers closed around the tub. Brad snorted, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. 

“Hey Brad, catch!” 

Brad turned and caught the tub with one hand, the other still holding the juice carton. 

“Shit homes,” Ray whistled, “that was epic.” 

Brad placed the tub and carton onto the countertop and turned back to Ray crouching on the balls of his feet. The structure wobbled; Brad pushed himself away from the counter before he knew what he was doing. 

“Brad, I’m fine,” Ray said, not looking up from where he was stretching his leg down to the second chair. Brad huffed but hovered close by, not trusting Ray’s balance or building techniques. 

Ray’s foot just touched the second chair when the third one Ray was crouching on slipped back. Ray tipped back, his eyes going wide in shock and Brad threw himself between the structure and the island. He grabbed a fistful of Ray’s t-shirt, yanking him against his chest, the chairs clattering to the floor around them. All the breath was punched out of Brad’s lungs as his back hit the floor and Ray hit him in the chest; he coughed, choking a little, pain blooming across his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” Ray breathed, head flopping down on Brad’s shoulder. Brad groaned in agreement, wincing at the pain. 

“You okay?” Brad asked when his breath came back. 

“Fine,” Ray said curtly. Brad rose his head off the floor, grimacing. Ray had his fist clenched in Brad’s shirt and he was barely moving, only his chest rising and falling shakily. Brad leant back, squeezing the arm he’d thrown over Ray, moving it to rub soothing circles into Ray’s back as he started to shake in earnest against Brad’s chest. 

“Fuck, I coulda died.” Ray breathed out all at once. Brad kept quiet, his eyes flicking over to the third chair that was on its side. If Ray’s neck had hit the side of the chair right and kept going, his neck would have… 

“You’re fine,” Brad said firmly, trying to block out the sickening crack his mind filled in. 

“Yeah,” Ray said shakily, “I don’t think I like heights anymore.” 

Brad huffed a laugh, “The fact that you liked heights to begin with is astounding.” 

“You’re just a pussy Brad.” Ray was still shaking as he sat up, his face pale and eyes still wide, chest heaving. Brad watched him look over at the chairs and swallow. 

“Please don’t put anything up there again,” Ray said quietly, eyes not straying from the mess of chairs. 

“I won’t,” Brad promised, rubbing his thumb against Ray’s hip. Ray nodded jerkily and scrambled up to his feet, taking a shaky breath. 

“Are you okay?” 

Brad nodded, “My shoulders hurt like a particularly nasty bitch but I’m not dead and nothing’s broken.” 

“You sure?” Ray asked, eyes scanning Brad’s chest and limbs. Brad smiled, huffing a laugh as Ray jumped to help him sit up. His eyes spared the chairs a glance and quickly looked away, an image of Ray’s limp body spread over them springing into his head. 

“No climbing on anything over a foot,” Brad said, using Ray and the island to stand up. His back burst with pain and it must have showed on his face as Ray nodded sharply, eyes wide with guilt. 

“I’m fine Ray,” Brad said, squeezing Ray’s arm. Ray swallowed and nodded again. 

The front door slammed open, 

“What the fuck have you white boys done?” 

Brad sent Ray an amused smile and relief filled his chest as Ray gave him a small, unhurt, smile back.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Credit: https://otp-prompts-for-you.tumblr.com/post/158850049490/height-difference-prompts
> 
> Height Differences Prompt: “I just watched you stack 3 chairs on top of each other to reach the top shelf because I accidentally put something up there. And… now I had to catch you because that was a stupid idea.”


End file.
